So strange—what just happened?
I couldn’t comprehend such an arcane event.
A vague suspicion formed in my heart, but it felt too absurd, so I dismissed it immediately.
I leaned on the wall, adjusting my state a little before dragging my heavy body back into the villa.
Aunt Lin finished cooking and cleaning, then returned to her maid’s room, leaving me undisturbed.
Now, no one was on the first floor except for a single large lamp in the center, slightly dispelling the cold night outside.
The sofa in the living room wasn’t leather or wood, but a very soft, comfortable style suitable for me to lie down and rest.
I sat on one side of the small sofa, arms resting on the armrests, letting my small hands hang relaxed.
Then, I tilted my head back, staring at the white faux-porcelain ceiling.
Si Zhiruo hesitated but then said, “Mommy, your Red Thread of Fate is about to break.”
Having just forced her divine sense to penetrate endless causality, the damage to her was not slight.
She needed at least half a month of calm recovery.
Her voice was weak and deliberately softened.
Red Thread of Fate? Breaking?
I grabbed the keywords from her words.
My heart inexplicably jolted.
My sudden, vigorous standing caused me to twist my waist painfully.
“Zhizhi, what… does that mean?”
Though I already guessed the answer deep down, I still couldn’t truly believe it.
My voice trembled uncontrollably.
“The literal… meaning,” Si Zhiruo’s mood dropped suddenly.
Her young mind hadn’t learned much; she comforted with what little knowledge she had.
“If she breaks your heart, I’ll strangle her myself… If she dies, I’ll find someone who looks like her for you. Shouldn’t be too different. Hmm, if one’s not enough, a hundred is fine, one fresh one every day. The goal is to make Mommy happy, not sad.”
Si Zhiruo didn’t quite understand human love.
To her, love was more like a toy.
If the toy broke, of course you got another similar one.
What do you mean “just died”? My little hand quietly clenched again.
The faintly eased panic in my chest spread anew.
Is now really the time to joke about replacements?
I felt sad, almost on the verge of tears.
I know Su Liumeng’s personality best—she wouldn’t fall in love with someone else in just over half a month.
She had endured all those years before; it was simply impossible.
So, there was only one possibility left.
Su Liumeng—she was going to die.
How could this be?
The panic that had just eased spread through my entire body again.
It was an unbearable terror.
Worse, Zhizhi had spoken to me like this—as if Su Liumeng was confirmed beyond hope.
Thinking of that, my emotions broke down.
Tears streamed down my cheeks; my eyes reddened like a rabbit’s.
I screamed hoarsely, “No! I don’t want anyone else. I… want Su Liumeng…”
It was the first time I had cried this painfully.
I rested my arms on the tea table and buried my face, sobbing.
Seeing her mother like this, Si Zhiruo was at a loss.
She reflexively continued, “Mm, mm, mm, no one else, we want only Su Liumeng. Mommy, can you stop crying? Hearing you cry makes me so sad too…”
Her voice was weak.
My heart clenched again, a fierce motherly love from my bloodline forced me to hold back my tears.
No, I couldn’t let my baby cry.
I panicked, stammering as I wiped my eyes, choking on my words, “Mm, Mommy won’t cry anymore. You can’t cry either.”
“Okay.”
Si Zhiruo wasn’t really crying, just very sad inside.
I bit my lower lip hard, holding back my tears.
At this point, what use was crying?
If crying at graves could bring someone back, would so many still die unexpectedly?
I forced myself to calm down and asked Si Zhiruo for more details.
“What’s the current situation? Is Su Liumeng still alive? Has the Red Thread snapped completely? If I rush to the Su family trial grounds now, is there still a chance to save Su Liumeng? If I need your help to save her, will it harm you in any way?”
When trouble really hits, my sense of crisis pushes me to stop slacking off.
My rarely summoned intelligence returned, and in just a minute of thought, I clearly laid out the critical points of the situation.
Si Zhiruo braced herself and prepared to use her divine power again to pierce a region’s endless causality.
The law of causality—the supreme rule belonging to the Great Dao.
Only peerless Emperors, upon forming their own realms, can glimpse even a fraction of it.
***
Ten minutes earlier.
Dragonfall Grounds.
Su Liumeng injected the Azure Dragon Blood into her bloodstream, attempting to awaken her True Blood origin.
The next moment—
The Azure Dragon Blood violently clashed with the previous True Bloods, triggering a fierce rejection reaction that pushed her body toward collapse in an instant.
Spiderweb-like cracks appeared on her arms and thighs.
Endless energy erupted from the cracks in multi-colored beams, silently shooting outward in all directions from beneath her pale skin.
It felt as if she might explode on the spot any second.
Weakly, she collapsed to the ground, her breath already faint, holding on with the last bit of instinct not to lose consciousness.
This was the price of fusing Dragon Blood.
A slight misstep meant bursting apart.
Countless had died from such rejection reactions.
The more Dragon Bloods fused, the more terrifying the risk.
The dangers weren’t just physical rejection but also the clash between the newly fused blood and the blood already in her body.
Each added Dragon Blood’s difficulty didn’t just double—it grew exponentially.
Su Liumeng had long anticipated this.
Hence, she was not yet completely broken.
Despite countless preparations, her consciousness was now pushed to a sliver of instinct.
The storm stirred by six different Dragon Bloods was like an endless ocean.
Her remaining awareness was like a fragile boat sinking in the dark abyss, ready to capsize at any moment.
“Ah—”
Su Liumeng suddenly howled in pain.
Like a trapped tiger fighting desperately, her last roar and a sorrowful wail.
Her clenched fist finally gained strength, grasping firmly.
No.
She could not die here.
Su Liumeng slammed a fist into the ground—her most common move.
Blood splattered across the walls, forming plum blossom-shaped marks.
The pain from self-inflicted injury allowed her to regain a trace of true consciousness.
She used this moment to look inward.
Countless tiny blood vessels all over her body had ruptured.
No wonder she was a leaking blood person.
Even her once-tough meridians had become chaotic.
Six different Dragon Bloods fought inside her, turning her body into a mess.
The energy in her dantian was like old glue, no longer moving with her will.
Just a simple use of her divine sense had further worsened her condition.
She coughed hard, spitting out a large blood clot.
The heart pumps blood and is the source of power but does not produce blood itself.
The fusion process was complicated yet simple.
She needed to implant a fixed Dragon Blood seed into her hematopoietic organ, so it would continuously generate True Blood.
The Su family generally used a crude method—flushing the hematopoietic organ with massive amounts of raw Dragon Blood.
If this assumption was correct, the True Dragon Blood might contain an unknown antigen.
Of course, reality had cases of people having two blood types, like AB blood type individuals.
Therefore—
Su Liumeng naturally considered herself an A, gold-black-red-white-blue blood type carrier.
The suffering she faced was just a strong rejection reaction caused by forcibly inputting another blood type.
The reaction was stronger than normal blood transfusion because Dragon Blood contained innate energy—each red blood cell held tremendous power, causing an especially fierce rejection.
Understanding all this brought a crucial question.
How could she save herself?
Su Liumeng thought of a solution.
Since different blood types involve antigen-antibody rejection, what if her hematopoietic stem cells could produce red blood cells with the Azure Dragon antigen?
Would that solve the rejection?
Of course, this principle might not be as simple as she thought.
With so many powerful predecessors in the Su family, if she thought of it, others probably had too.
They never fully implemented it; there must have been details she didn’t yet understand.
But—
At least she had a direction.
She could refine it continuously later.
If this problem was solved, she might even dare to fuse the Seventh True Dragon Blood directly.
Perhaps she could achieve the unprecedented Nine Dragon Ascension, unleashing the full invincible power of the Heavenly Transformation Nine Dragon Art.
Suddenly, a crazy thought flashed in Su Liumeng’s mind.
What if she fused a piece of Azure Dragon bone marrow directly?
Could she then form matching hematopoietic stem cells, forever ending the problem of the Azure Dragon True Blood’s violent reaction?
Even—
Her blood purity would increase further.
After all, no matter how much Dragon Blood you fuse, it’s not as simple and direct as fusing bone marrow.
At the thought, her eyes lit up as if a new path had opened completely.
Maybe.
Maybe this was the proper way to open the Heavenly Transformation Nine Dragon Art.
Had all the predecessors practiced it wrongly?
Su Liumeng no longer pondered the question.
Her excitement nearly overwhelmed her, making her want to find a piece of Azure Dragon bone immediately to try.
She suddenly tilted her head back and laughed loudly.
Her petite body was stained with glaring blood, but it couldn’t hide the soaring expression in her eyes—an extreme confidence only a true genius could possess.
Summoning her last bit of strength, she broke through the cave wall and flew out.
Following the map in her mind, she arrived before a completely mined Azure Dragon skeleton.
This place had no valuable resources left, so she needn’t worry about passersby.
Standing beneath the Azure Dragon’s skeleton, she braced against the immense pressure with her body.
Holding on to the unyielding belief in her heart, she climbed step by step.
Si Xinyan’s image flashed repeatedly in her mind, sustaining her fading awareness.
Like a mechanical motion, she moved forward.
Half an hour passed.
Su Liumeng had never felt time so long.
When she reached the long bone’s shaft, her consciousness nearly dispersed completely.
She swayed like a drunken man, about to collapse.
But before breaking, she recalled that delicate figure and straightened herself forcibly.
Like a drunken guest staggering forward.
Suddenly, she lunged forward, lying on a massive joint.
The dagger’s silver light flickered constantly.
She held one end tightly, her eyes flashing with resolve and madness.
Directly fusing bone marrow was a daring and insane idea.
But did she have a better choice now?
Scratch—
Bone marrow wasn’t solid but a soft liquid tissue.
Su Liumeng’s lips curled into a smile like a demon crawling out of hell—madness and ferocity all at once.
She held the extracted bone marrow in a clenched hand.
Then, she cut open one side of her body.
In the past eighteen years, whatever she did had been nearly assured victory.
Scenes from the past flickered in her mind, ultimately freezing on a blooming delicate face.
The girl’s every frown and smile, every teasing and angry moment, seemed to happen right before her eyes.
Her fingers trembled continuously, still gripping the dagger.
Her expression had never been so determined.
“Sorry, I really can’t live an ordinary life.”
…
On the Dragon Bone, her bitter whisper drifted away in the wind.
“I promised you I’d return.
I’ll tell the whole world you’re my girlfriend.
And because of you, I’m willing to stake my life.”
Before leaving, Su Liumeng’s vow and the last sentence buried deep within her heart.
If I don’t return—
Then forget me.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.